The Rest is Silence
by whatever06
Summary: The world of theatre becomes life or death. [Post my story Harsh Education] Now Complete.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. I did create Ann-Elise on my own. Enjoy.**

**Hollywood, CA, ****1981**

Silvia Greenburg, better known to her adoring fans as Silvia Grace, had always been the consummate performer – lines memorized, blocking perfected, every syllable spoken with just the right inflection, her appearance polished and her manners beyond reproach. She wanted her last performance to be no different.

"Sarah-Ann! Get in here please." She called to her five year old daughter. The little girl entered the room.

"Yes mommy."

"Remember, you bring this to me when I call – only when I call you. We have to get this right on the first take." The little girl nodded and accepted the silver tray her mother handed to her. "Now, wait in the hall." She did as instructed.

Silvia looked at herself in the mirror and added more lipstick to her already-scarlet lips. She walked over to the perfectly-made bed – her white silk gown matching the bed covering. She set herself up diagonally across the bed. Reaching for the phone, she picked up the receiver and quickly dialed a much-used number.

"Hello, Gordon Samples Agency. How may I help you?"

"This is Silvia Grace. I must speak with Gordon right away."

"Yes Ms. Grace. I'll get him for you right now."

"Silvia! Where have you been hiding? I've been so worried. Why did you send me a letter of resignation?"

"Gordon, I'm done with this life. Promise me one thing."

"Anything for you, you know that. What is going on? You don't sound like yourself."

"Take care of Sarah-Ann for me. She will be so lonely without me." She placed the receiver on the pillow near her head and called her daughter back into the room. She motioned for the little girl to bring the tray close to the bed. Silvia lifted the silver lid from the tray, revealing a hand gun. All the while, Gordon's voice could be heard calling Silvia's name over and over again.

"Goodbye my darling."

Gordon nearly dropped the phone when he heard to gun shot over the receiver.

"Silvia! What is happening? Silvia!" Gordon stopped yelling and listened – he could hear a little girl crying for her mommy.


	2. Disappearances

**Signal Mountain Community Theatre**

**Signal Mountain, Tennessee**

Even from backstage, the audience's reactions could be heard clearly. The actors backstage were too distracted to notice.

"Have you seen Radka?" The stage manager made the rounds, whispering as quietly and intensely as he could. "Do you know where Radka has gotten to?"

"Look in the green room."

"I just came from there. No one's seen her since the funeral scene."

"She's probably hiding in the loading dock, smoking."

"I'll go check. Five minutes 'til curtain call." The stage manager left the backstage area to a whispered chorus of "Thank you five." and made his way to the loading dock – which he would find empty.

Curtain call took place without Radka. After the show all of the actors searched the entire building. After thirty minutes of unsuccessful searching, the stage manager called the police.

When the police officer arrived he gathered all of the details: the actress went missing during the show, she left her purse, cell phone, car keys and street clothes in the dressing room, and her car was still in the parking lot. Although the officer didn't mention his suspicions to the already-worried actors, he immediately called his superiors as he made his way to the victim's house – this case sounded eerily familiar.

**Signal Mountain, near the W Road**

**Two days later**

Radka Novotny felt like she was flying, floating weightless in the cold night air. Wishing to take in the full experience she inhaled deeply. Water, not air, filled her mouth and her nose. She coughed and sputtered but only took in more water, deeper into her throat and lungs. Kicking and flailing, fighting to live, she finally felt her head break the surface of the water. In the dark, still trying to catch her breath, Radka barely made her way to the water's edge and slowly and painfully pulled herself out of the water.

**F.B.I., Offices of the B.A.U**

**Quantico, VA**

The B.A.U. team had gathered in the small conference room. Special Agent Hotchner walked in and took a quick glance around the room.

"Where is Reid?"

"He took a vacation day." Everyone looked at Special Agent Gideon in shock. "He mentioned taking Ann-Elise to the doctor's office – it's her last follow-up appointment and she hasn't been cleared to drive yet."

"That is fine. We can get him caught up on the case later. Right now we've only been asked to create a profile and advise the local P.D.'s. In the last five weeks three woman have disappeared in and around Chattanooga, Tennessee." Hotchner walked over to the white board, three pictures and details were already posted. "The first victim is Lily Sanchez, a high school senior. She had just finished her school's production of **Romeo and Juliet**. She disappeared from a party at the director's house. Witnesses say she left between 1:30 and 2:00 in the morning. She never arrived home. Her car has not been found."

Special Agent Morgan had been looking at the file and looked up as Hotchner paused.

"Did she have a boyfriend? Or enemies?"

"The local P.D. has ruled out her boyfriend as a suspect – he was still at the party for an hour after she left. No one remembers her leaving with anyone and according to her family she was well liked at school."

"Was there drinking at the party? Could there have been a one-car accident?"

"No, the party was at the teacher's house and he made sure it was dry. She was only five miles from home and the roads have been searched thoroughly." Hotchner turned a few pages in the folder.

Agent Jennifer Jareau cell phone rang and she excused herself, stepping outside into the hallway.

"The second victim is Elizabeth Sanders, 29. She was reported missing by her husband when he returned from a business trip to find her car, in the driveway, with the driver's door open and the house empty. She had just completed a production of **'Night Mother**. The third victim has only been missing for two days. Radka Novotny disappeared from a local theatre just after her final scene. The police contacted us when they realized the similarities between the victims: they are all young women, involved in theatre and who have disappeared during or after the final performance."

J.J. stepped back into the room.

"That was the Signal Mountain Police Department. The third victim was found alive. They are asking us to come in now." Hotchner looked at his watch.

"Gideon, call in Reid. We leave in an hour and one half."

**Kings County Medical Offices**

Ann-Elise Miller practically ran into the waiting room, a huge grin on her face. She stopped right in front of Agent Spencer Reid. He looked up at her, sliding his book into his leather messenger bag at the same time.

"I'm going to surmise from your positive countenance that you've been given a clean bill of health."

"I can go back to work Monday – which conveniently is the first day of Spring Break – I can stop taking the pain pills and the sleeping pills, and most importantly, I can drive again."

Reid stood up, putting his bag over his shoulder. He pulled the car keys from his pocket.

"Wonderful. I need to ask a favor."

"Anything."

"They've called me in – a new case. Could you drive me to my place so I can get my bag and then drop me off so I can catch the plane? You can just keep my car until I get back."

"Sure." Ann-Elise didn't even try to hide her disappointment. Reid playfully threw her the keys, which she caught easily. "So much for your day off."


	3. The Lady in White

_(Hotchner)_ Bette Davis once said, "I do not regret one professional enemy I have made. Any actor who doesn't dare to make an enemy should get out of the business."

Reid made the flight and the team immediately set about to get him caught up on what they knew so far.

"There have been no ransom demands and no one has contacted the families or the media to claim responsibility." Reid was listening to Hotchner while looking over the files. "The third victim was found alive this morning about five miles from where she was taken. She was wearing her costume, a white nightgown; she was drugged and nearly drowned."

"The local P.D. reports that she was non-responsive when she was found. What little we have from the hospital says that she is in shock, severely dehydrated and heavily drugged – most likely rohypnol. By the time we arrive there should be an update on her condition." Reid waited for J.J. to finish before he spoke.

"Hotch, all the victims are actresses. Has any connection been made with the plays or characters they were playing?" When no one answered, he continued. "Radka Novotny was playing Ophelia in **Hamlet**. Ophelia drowns. The victim was found nearly drowned – I don't think that is a coincident."

"Let's get Garcia on this right now. . . Maybe she can get us copies of the plays."

"Hotch, there is someone who would already be familiar with all of the plays involved."

**Doyle- Parker Community Park**

Ann-Elise Miller had been walking for almost an hour and she still had ½ a lap to go to complete her second mile. When her cell phone rang she jumped. Laughing, she pulled the phone from her pocket, checked the caller i.d., took out one ear plug and answered the phone.

"Did you make it to Tennessee already?"

"No, we're still on the plane. Ann, we need your expertise on this case. I'm putting you on speaker phone."

Ann-Elise pulled the MP3 player from her other pocket, turned it off and removed the other ear plug. The next voice she heard was Agent Hotchner's.

"Ann-Elise, what can you tell us about the character of Ophelia in **Hamlet**?"

"Well, it's a career-making role and quite a challenge to play. Ophelia begins the play as a sheltered young girl who has the love of the Prince of Denmark. Then her brother leaves, Hamlet rejects her, he then kills her father and she loses it. She goes insane and kills herself."

"If we send you a list of plays, could you look for any similarities – either in characters or storyline?"

"I'll do anything to help out."

"Thank you. Reid will email you the list."

"I'll be home in about thirty minutes."

"Where are you?" Ann-Elise could hear someone laughing in the background at Reid's personal question. She suspected it was Morgan.

"I'm walking the track."

"You're not doing too much are you?"

"Spence, trust me when I say 'no.' A group of red-hatters have already lap'd me twice – those grannies are kicking my butt."

"Thank you again for your help." Hotchner cut into the conversation and Ann-Elise heard the connection end. She ended the connection on her phone and checked the time. If she walked just a little bit faster she could be home in twenty minutes.

**Signal Mountain Police Department**

**Signal Mountain, Tennessee**

The team arrived at the Chattanooga Airport and then made the thirty minute drive to Signal Mountain police department. They were met by the several of the officers and a quick round of introductions and handshakes were exchanged. The team was lead into the Captain's office.

"I'm Captain Thomas. Agent Hotchner, I am so glad that you and your team are here. We admit this whole situation is . . . well. . . beyond what we are used to." Despite his uniform, Captain Thomas seemed more like a farmer than an officer of the law with his strong southern accent, jovial nature, ruffled hair and bushy mustache.

"Captain Thomas, I would like my team to visit several of the locations involved."

"Not a problem. I will get some of my officers to help you with any transportation issues. Also, we have a great relationship with the other police departments involved." He glanced at his watch. "Now, if you want to see where we found her, we better get moving. Within two hours traffic will be almost impossible to deal with at the W Road."

"The W Road?"

"That was where she was found. It is one of only two ways off the mountain to the Chattanooga Valley. The name comes from the shape of the road; it literally is a "w." The road has a bit of a reputation, which may have caused a slight delay in us finding her."

"Delay?" Hotchner looked intrigued.

"It's an urban legend. Drivers, for years, have reported seeing a young woman waiting on the side of the road. . . ."

" 'The Lady in White' legend. Supposedly a girl was killed on her prom night and she waits for someone to take her home. If a driver picks her up, he takes her home only to find her gone, disappeared."

"That's the story. Well, the local radio station was getting a ton o' calls reportin' the so-called Lady in White. The D.J. was afraid someone was playing a prank and he called us. My officers found the lady sittin' on the side of the road. She was wearin' a flimsy white nightgown, she didn't seem to know who she was or where she was." Captain Thomas looked around at the visiting F.B.I. agents. "If you're ready, I'll go get those officers to help ya." He walked out of the room.

There was a rare smile on Hotchner's face.

"Well, that was an unusual briefing." He threw a quick glance at Reid. "Reid, I want you to stay here. Get in touch with Ann-Elise and Garcia and see where we stand on any connections to the actors and the plays. Also, get a list of all of the plays that will be presented this coming weekend. Morgan and Gideon, check out the theatre and the W Road. Elle and I will go to the hospital to interview Ms. Novotny. We will also visit the first victim's school." Without another word the team members started the leave the room. Reid didn't leave, instead he walked up to Hotchner.

"Hotch, just to make things easier, could you bring Ann-Elise here. If she's going to help us with the case. . ."

"I don't think that is a good idea." Gideon, over-hearing the question had stopped at the doorway. He walked back towards the two agents. "Reid, how is she doing?"

"Fine. She got a clean bill of health . . . ."

"This morning. How is she doing emotionally, mentally?"

"Better than Karen is doing." Reid knew how lame his answered sounded. Hotchner and Gideon exchanged glances.

"Reid, I agree with Gideon – it just isn't a good idea. I'll make some calls, get her clearance into the office. She can work with Garcia." Reid nodded, a little embarrassed. "Why don't you tell her." Again Reid nodded again and left the room.

"Jason, is this something we should worry about?"

"No, he's just finding himself in a situation he knows nothing about – we might to just keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't start to make stupid decisions based on his feelings instead of knowledge."


	4. Too many paths

**Didn't mean to take this long to post this chapter. Sorry it is so short, too. Next chapter will move faster, I promise.**

**Residence of Ann-Elise Miller**

Ann-Elise Miller stood up and stretched her back. She had been sitting at her computer for far too long. The email Reid had sent was waiting for her when she returned home from the park. She had been familiar with all three plays and the connection between the characters was immediately obvious. With the first question answered, she decided to do some of her own research. Almost an hour later, she had a long list of plays and theatre companies in the Chattanooga area. Growing impatient for Reid to call her, she picked up her phone intent on calling him. Her phone rang before she could dial the first number.

"I was about to call you. How's that for timing?"

"Hello to you too."

"Sorry, hello Spence."

"Did you get the email? Have you found any connections yet?"

"All three characters commit suicide: Juliet stabs herself, Jessie shots herself, and Ophelia . . ."

"Drowns."

"Yes. I guess it doesn't look too hopeful for the first girl – it's been five weeks."

"How did you know it had been five weeks?"

"I did some research – probably didn't find everything."

"There is a way you could get more information. . . . Hotch is offering you clearance to get into the B.A.U. office and work with Garcia. . . . If you are interested." Reid paused, not sure if he should mention his first-denied request. "Just think about it."

**Erlanger Hospital**

Elle Greenaway lightly tapped on the door before walking into the hospital room. Agent Hotchner stayed in the hallway, talking with the victim's doctor. Elle could see a young woman, Radka Novotny, sitting in the hospital bed, staring straight ahead, across the room.

"Miss Novotny?" The young woman looked towards Elle. "I'm Agent Elle Greenaway with the F.B.I. May I ask you some questions?"

"F.B.I.? I didn't know I was so important." She gave Elle a weak smile. "To tell the truth, I am hoping someone could answer my questions."

"Maybe we can help each other. Do you remember anything about the past few days? Where you've been? Who you've been with?"

"I don't know. It is the strangest feeling – not knowing what has happened to me."

"What is the last thing you do remember?"

"Being at the theatre, getting ready for the show. We had a meeting just before curtain to discuss strike and then we started the show. The shows. . . . they kinda run together. I don't remember anything different."

"How well did you get along with others involved in the show?"

"It was a great cast. We all got along great. . . . I wish I could remember something, anything." Elle reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card.

"This is how you can contact me – when you remember something. I hope you feel better. Thank you for your help." Elle hoped she sounded sincere; at the moment she felt more frustration than anything else.

She walked out of the room and found Hotchner finishing his conversation with the doctor. When he saw Elle, he quickly thanked the doctor and walked toward her.

"She didn't remember anything Hotch."

"The doctor said she might remember more once the drugs are completely out of her system. We can always interview her again."

**The "W" Road, Signal Mountain, **

**Signal Mountain, TN **

Derek Morgan stood near the three-foot-high stone wall that separated the cars on the road from the three hundred foot drop off the mountain. Jason Gideon stood near the spot where Radka Novotny had been found. A local police officer was pointing to a thin path that led to the lake two hundred yards away.

"Kids come here in the summer to swim. Sometimes people come to fish."

"So only local residence would know there is a lake here?"

"Guessin' so."

"Gideon, any ideas how the unsub brought the victim here? Look at how narrow the road is – a car parked here would be noticed." Gideon turned to the police officer.

"Are there any other ways to get to the lake?"

"Let me show you." The trio made the short walk to the lake. Once there Gideon walked to the left of the lake, Morgan to the right. The lake was surrounded by five additional paths.

"Great, six different ways to get here."


	5. Sadness and Frustration

**Better late than never, right? ****I've actually come up with a new story idea and that has sparked more creativity than this one. If anyone has some time and would like to help me get this story done, I would love the input and assistance . Private Message me if you are really interested.**

**Please feel free to review, it does help.**

**Signal Mountain Police Department**

**Signal Mountain, Tennessee**

Jason Gideon stared at the various pictures spread out across the conference table – pictures of the lake, the W Road, theatres and headshots of two still-missing actresses. His concentration was broken by the entrance of a very excited Captain Thomas.

"Agent Gideon, I have good news. My guys found some drag marks along one of the paths. The path begins at this parking lot." He handed Gideon a photograph. "It was a family-owned fresh market. It's been deserted for about a year now."

"Thank you." Gideon jumped up and walked to the door, yelling for Morgan. Morgan, sitting at an officer's desk, stopped mid-word in his conversation with Hotchner and Reid. "We know which path was used."

"Let's go." Morgan and Gideon began walking towards the door.

"Keep us up to date." Hotch called after them. "Reid, have you talked to Ann-Elise again?"

"Not yet. She seemed interested in helping though."

"Call her. Other than finding the path we have no new information and we need all the help we can get."

"I'll call her right now."

**Residence of Ann-Elise Miller**

Ann-Elise was empting the dishwasher when her phone rang. She grabbed the phone, looked up the stairs and quietly walked out the front door before answering the phone. She sat down on the top step and took a deep breath.

"Hey Spencer. How's the case?"

"Honestly, in need of someone who knows a great deal about theatre." Reid could hear her sigh over the phone. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine." Ann-Elise tried to put on her best happy-sounding voice.

"What is wrong?" Ann-Elise almost laughed, so much for her acting abilities.

"Karen is not doing well. I've tried to get her to . . . . get help – I've even called her doctor but he won't return my calls. His nurse said I have no right to talk to him . . . about Karen's condition without her permission."

"Ann, consider what she's been through, it is to be expected that she is still dealing with what happened." His instinct was to rattle off statistics of kidnapping victims and depression and suicide – he stopped himself, that wasn't what she needed to hear. "You are doing everything that you can for her. You are a great friend. . . ."

"I'm not doing everything I can. And . . . I . . . I don't want to leave her alone for too long."

"Leave her alone? Where are you?"

"I'm at home . . . we both are at _my_ home. I don't think she's left the guest room all day." Ann-Elise heard someone clear their throat near Reid's phone.

"I hate to be insensitive but Hotch needs your help. Are you still willing to go into the office, work with Garcia, just for a little while tomorrow?" Reid heard her sigh again.

"I'll do it."

"Great. Look I know everything will work out – it will." Reid paused, listening to Hotchner's instructions. "Hotch has already gotten you clearance into the office. Do you remember where I met you last time? Check in there and someone will take you to Garcia's office."

"Tell him I said thank you. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Without saying goodbye, Ann-Elise ended the call.

Reid stood still, staring at his phone. He didn't like how Ann-Elise sounded, something was very wrong.

"Well?"

"She said she would do it."

"Reid, you don't seem so pleased about this now."

"She's dealing some things, with her friend, Karen. She's just worried – I am pleased that Ann-Elise will be helping us."

Ann-Elise burst into tears as she hung up the phone. She hated to cry – she thought of it as a sign of weakness and she always considered herself a strong person. She stayed out on the porch for a few minutes, giving into the tears; she felt too exhausted to fight them anymore.

When she felt she had cried enough Ann-Elise cleaned up as best she could and went back inside the house. At some point Karen had come down stairs and was standing in front of the television. Ann-Elise noted that she was still in her pajamas from the day before.

"Are you watching this?" Keeping her face down as much as she could, Ann-Elise peeked into the room; she couldn't even remember what she had been watching.

"No, go ahead, watch what you want." Karen grabbed the remote off the floor and started clicking through the channels. "Guess what I'm doing tomorrow?" She paused but Karen didn't even attempt to guess. "I'm going to help the F.B.I. with a case. Crazy, huh?" Again, Karen didn't respond. "Look, I'm going to run to the grocery store. I was thinking about making that rosemary bread you like later this week. Can I pick up anything for you?"

"I'm fine." Karen didn't look up.

"Alright. I'll be back in half an hour." Ann-Elise picked up her purse from a table and started to walk towards the door.

"Hey, do you remember where you put the extra key to my security box?"

"It is on the keychain in my jewelry box upstairs. Do you want me to go get it?"

"No, I don't need it right now. Hey, could you get me some chocolate ice cream?"

"You got it."

**Signal Mountain Police Department**

The next morning the team met to compare notes. J.J. passed out files as she spoke.

"The path is about a quarter of a mile long. There are no connecting paths."

"So whoever used that path had to have parked at the building." Gideon stood up at this point to continue the briefing.

"Exactly. The building where the path began is deserted but it's still owned by a local family – the Parr's." Gideon motioned toward Morgan. "We talked to the Parr family yesterday. The husband died six months ago from complications of a stroke he had a year ago. The wife was unable to keep the market open while taking care of her husband." Morgan stood up and pointed to a picture on the board.

"There were several tire marks found in the dirt behind the building, near the entrance to the path. According to the local P.D. it rained twenty-four hours before Ms. Novotny was found. There is a chance that the unsub left tire prints. The T.B.I. has already been given pictures and molds of the prints."

"So," Hotchner sighed, "we have an unsub with a vehicle, or at least access to a vehicle, who is familiar with the area and who has an interest in theatre and is obsessed with female characters who commit suicide."

"At least it is a start." Elle tried to make the statement sound positive.

**Good Shepherd Cemetery**

**Chattanooga, TN**

Wednesdays were Nancy Short's favorite day. Since retiring five years ago she had found service projects to be the best way to make friends, stay busy and feel needed. After meeting with several of the other ladies from the neighborhood, Nancy had driven the lead car of the caravan to the main entrance gate of The Good Shepherd Cemetery, second oldest cemetery in the city. The ladies unloaded the cleaning supplies from the trunks of the many vehicles and then divided up into various areas within the cemetery.

Nancy walked to the north end of the cemetery. She found this particular corner so quiet – it was the oldest section – the death years listed on the tombstones and monuments began as early as the 1860's. Nancy put on her gardening gloves and then picked up the hedge clippers from her box of supplies. Looking around she decided to start pruning the vines hanging over the stone border wall. As she got closer to the wall she became aware of an odor – a decaying, bitter smell. Curious, Nancy looked around, hoping it was a dead animal. To her horror she spotted a form on top of one of the above-ground vaults. Although there was a black cloth covering the form she knew it wasn't a dead animal – it was a human form. Too shocked to scream, Nancy dropped the clippers and ran back to the entrance.


	6. Dressed for Death

**Offices of the B.A.U.**

**Quantico, VA**

Normally Ann-Elise didn't feel nervous about meeting new people but today she was nervous. She had arrived at the F.B.I. building and, after checking in, was escorted to the B.A.U. offices. The agent pointed towards the appropriate door and left.

Ann-Elise slowly took the final steps towards the door, took a deep breath and knocked. A mumbled "come in" was heard through the closed door. Upon opening the door, she saw a blond-haired lady wearing black framed glasses rotating her chair to face the door.

"You must be Ann-Elise." She extended her hand and the two exchanged handshakes. "Penelope Garcia. Have a seat, please."

"Thank you." Ann-Elise pulled an office chair over and had a seat. "I hope that I'm not bothering you. I have a feeling that this whole situation was Spencer's idea, not yours."

"I'm sure our little Dr. Reid had his reasons. Now. . ."Garcia picked up a piece of paper from in front of the main monitor and turned her chair again to face her visitor, "Let's see if I have all of the facts right. You are Ann-Elise Miller, only child of Patrick and Vivian Miller, or rather Captain Patrick Miller of the Kings County Police Academy." Garcia looked up from her paper, right eyebrow raised. "Any reason you didn't mention your father was a cop to anyone while we were investigating your missing friend?"

Ann-Elise wasn't sure if that was a rhetorically question or not so she didn't say anything. Garcia continued.

"Raised by your dad since you were six after your mother passed away. Graduated first in your class both in high school and at university. Oh, you own a .38 . . ."

"My dad's idea."

"And a permit to carry a concealed weapon . . ."

"Which I've never used."

"And when you were five you wanted to be a cop like your dad."

"Yes, I did . . . . _how_ did you know that?"

"Your father told Reid while you were in the hospital. You do realize that it was awkward for everyone the first time they met your father . . . "

"I'm sorry it was "awkward" but you obviously have no idea what it was like being raised by a police officer. My dad found a nice balance between being an overprotective parent and being totally obsessed with my safety and security. If I had told him that I was in danger, I would have found myself living at home again."

"Point taken. I wouldn't want to live with my parents again either."

"Now that I feel like I have no secrets left, could we talk about the case?" The girls shared a smile and Garcia turned her chair back towards the desk space and picked up several file folders. She turned the chair back around.

"Here." She handed the files over to Ann-Elise. "The top file holds the resumes and programs from the three shows already involved. The second includes the lists all of the theatres and the plays and the final file . . . ." Garcia was interrupted by the phone ringing. "Sorry, I need to take this call. Garcia." Ann-Elise took the files and set herself up in the corner of the room and got to work.

**The Good Shepherd Cemetery**

**Chattanooga, TN**

Agents Hotchner and Greenaway rushed to the cemetery as soon as they got the call that a body had been discovered. They got out of thecar and looked around to find the officer in charge of the scene. After asking an officer, the two agents walked towards the entrance of the cemetery. They found the Detective Sam McGowan talking to Nancy Short.

"Detective McGowan? I'm S.S.A. Hotchner from the F.B.I. and this is Agent Elle Greenaway. We believe the body found is connected to a case we are working on."

"Agent Hotchner, we will be more than happy to help you out anyway we can. This is Mrs. Nancy Short. She found the body."

"Hotch, I'm going to check out the drop site." Hotchner nodded his agreement.

"Agent Greenaway, I can take you there. The coroner just arrived about fifteen minutes ago." Elle followed Detective McGowan through the entrance gate. Hotchner turned his focus to a rather shaky looking witness.

"Mrs. Short, do you feel up to answering some questions."

"I will do my best. I've never had anything happen to me like this before."

"I can only imagine what a shock this has been for you. Do you come here often?"

"About a year ago a group of retirees in my community decided we wanted to do something helpful. When the weather is nice we are here once a month. Just a little cleaning and pruning."

"Were you here last month?"

"Well, let me think . . . that would have been . . . no, we didn't come last month. A local elementary school invited us to help with a program."

"Have you ever seen people here that looked out of place or maybe someone who looked suspicious?"

"Other than the group of ladies who come each month, I've never seen anyone here until today. That. . . body, who was it?"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Short. I can't say right now. We're still investigating."

"Oh, that's fine. I just thought I would put their family on our prayer list." Realizing she had told him probably everything she knew, he reached for a business card in his jacket pocket.

"I'm sure the family would appreciate that." He handed her a card. "If you should think of anything else, please contact me. Will you be alright?"

"Oh, I'll be fine. My friends are still here but thank you for asking."

The interview over, Hotchner walked into the cemetery. It didn't take him long to find the crime scene. Elle, seeing him approach, met him a few feet from the yellow police tape.

"Hotch, it's not pretty. The body has been here for weeks. The coroner says identification will have to be made with dental records or DNA. There is one unusual thing – the body is in an old-fashioned dress. Possibly pink or purple fabric from what I saw."

"What do you mean by 'old-fashioned'?"

"It was Renaissance-looking. It could possibly be a costume from **Romeo and Juliet**. The coroner has asked for pictures from the production." Hotchner already had his phone out and was dialing.

"I think we need more than pictures. Morgan, look through the Lily Sanchez file and see if there are any pictures of her in costume. If there are, fax them to the coroner's office." He paused to listen to Morgan's reply. "Fine. Elle and I are going to the high school to talk to the theatre teacher." Hotchner ended the call and turned back to Elle. "Let's go."

**Central High School**

**Chattanooga, TN**

Hotchner and Elle meet with Daniel Carlson in the school's auditorium.

"Have you found her?"

"We are not at liberty to say Mr. Carlson. What we need is for you to see if any of Lily's costumes are missing." The theatre instructor motioned for the agents to follow him on stage.

"We keep the costumes in storage backstage. The Monday after the show ended we had strike – when we clean up after the show. The costumes would have been checked off the master list before being sent to the cleaners. I have the list back here also." The three walked through the darkness of backstage to the storage room doors off stage right. Mr. Carlson turned the knob and opened the door.

"You don't lock the doors?"

"Only during the run of a show. The doors to the auditorium are usually locked except when classes are held in there. Is that important Agent Hotchner?" After turning on the overhead lights, he led them to a second door, which he opened. "Here are the costumes."

"Can you show us the costume Lily wore?"

"She had three dresses. Lily's mother is quite the seamstress – she made all three of them." He looked through the rack and began pulling out the dresses in question. After finding two, he made it to the end of the rack and stopped. He began looking again from the beginning. "I can't find the death dress." Hotchner and Elle exchanged glances.

"The death dress? What is that?" Mr. Carlson gave up on looking at the rack and walked over the table and grabbed a clipboard filled with paper. He ran his finger down the list as he talked.

"It's the dress Lily wore in the death scene; the dress she was wearing during the tomb scene." Elle walked over and looked over his arm at the list.

"You mean the dress she was wearing when Juliet killed herself."

"Yes." He showed her the clipboard, pointing to an empty square on the spreadsheet. "It wasn't checked back in. No one told me it was missing."

"What did it look like – what color?"

"It was a pale pink gown with a dark purple overskirt with gold trim." Elle looked at Hotchner and nodded. Hotchner clinched his jaw and had to control his urge to walk away.

"Mr. Carlson, I need you to make a list of everyone who had access to the costumes the last night of the show – students, parents, anyone who could have possibly been backstage."


	7. Too Much Information

**Signal Mountain Police Department**

**Signal Mountain, TN**

Spencer Reid sat in front of the computer monitor, conversing with Garcia and Ann-Elise; Agent Hotchner had asked him to get all the information he could while he and Elle were visiting Mr. Carlson at the school.

"Hotch sends his apologies. A body was found today, might be the first victim." Ann-Elise looked ill. "What did you two find out?" Ann-Elise turned back a couple of pages on a legal pad.

"We found one play, this week, which matches the pattern. Friday night the city's performing arts school will be presenting their final performance of **Antigone**."

"Ok, that we deal with. You didn't find anything else this week?"

"Not this week. There are other possibilities next week." She flipped a couple of pages ahead on the pad of paper. "I can give you the list if you want it." Reid nodded. "This is so unreal."

"What?"

"This! I'm talking to you via the internet, but I can see you." Reid smiled and gave her a little wave. She laughed. "And you can see me and I'm helping the F.B.I. Unreal."

"You're doing great. Now, have you found anything in the programs and resumes?"

"Have we!" Garcia laughed. "You're going to love this."

"So, what have you found?"

"First, you have to understand that there are two main philosophies in the world of theatre. You have your theatres that are willing to share resources with other companies – anything from facilities and staff to actors and volunteers. Then you have the exclusive we-don't-play-well-with-others "professional" theatres." Ann-Elise added her own air quotes to make her point. "They usually consider themselves above everyone else and therefore not willing to lower themselves to helping others. And they usually are anything but professional."

"Let me guess, the three companies involved are the sharing type, aren't they?"

"You got it, honey-bunch." Garcia smiled as she held up several pieces of paper listing names of those with connections to theatres companies involved. "The search has been fruitful to say to the least. We've been . . . . ." She was interrupted by Reid's cell phone ringing. He apologized before answering the phone. Garcia and Ann-Elise watched as he answered the phone and quickly jotted down some information and thanked Morgan before he hung up.

"Garcia, this might be a way to make that list smaller. The T.B.I. was able to identify the style of tire from the parking lot – P215 dash 60R16. It is made for the Camry XLE."

"I'll see if anyone from the list drives a Camry and fax you the details about **Antigone**."

"Thanks."

**Residence of the Sanchez family**

**Chattanooga, TN**

Agents Hotchner and Greenaway had just finished talking to Lily's teacher when the coroner called and confirmed the identification of the body found that morning. They had immediately driven to the Sanchez house. After a short but painful visit with the faimly, they slowly walked back to their rental car; their job of notifying the family that their daughter was dead completed. They both got into the car and Hotchner began driving them back to the police station. Elle turned on the car's radio and found a local news station.

". . . . motorists are reminded to avoid the DOT's latest work site at the intersection of I-27 and I-24. The project is scheduled to be completed by the 31st."

"Thanks Steve for this hour's traffic report. Now back to today's headlines: according to the coroner's office the body of Lily Sanchez, the high school student who has been missing for over a month, was discovered this morning. The body was identified by dental records. Now, an un-named source has reported that the F.B.I. has been brought in on the case and they are investigating a serial killer who seems to pick his victims by the roles young women portray in plays."

Hotchner listened to the radio so intently that he momentarily forgot his was driving. Looking up, he slammed on the brakes to stop from hitting the car in front of him. Elle pulled out her cell phone as Hotchner pulled the car into the closest parking lot.

"Who released that information? Get Captain Thomas on the phone. If this came from his department . . . ." Elle had already dialed and hit send.

"Reid, we have a problem. . . . . ."


	8. Team Meeting

**Mandarin Garden Restaurant**

**Chattanooga, TN**

The team sat around a large round table in the corner of a busy Chinese restaurant. Conversations criss-crossed the table until Jason Gideon cleared his throat with a little too much gusto. All heads turned to face him – free-time was over. Gideon looked to Aaron Hotchner.

"So far no one has admitted to telling the media about the victim connection . . . ."

"And we don't know what damage that information has caused." Elle threw in with only the slightest hint of sarcasm. She looked at J.J. "I realize that this is no one fault. . ."

"We have been able to convince the media to "update" the story. This evening's press conference left out what we wanted left out but it did include the information about the car. It's a start." Hotchner gave J.J. an approving nod.

"Alright, what do we know?" Gideon looked at the team members, waiting for the information they had discovered over the past few days to hopefully fall into place. Elle was the first to speak up.

"The unsub has a background, or at least an interest, in theatre. We know, based on precedent, that since the unsub hasn't contacted the media or the families that he did have contact with the victims. These women were chosen."

"Which leads us to suspect people involved in all three theatre companies. Reid, how is Garcia doing with the list?"

"She is still trying to narrow it down – it was a long list this afternoon."

"Do we know if the victims were sexually assaulted?"

"No, we don't. Ms. Novotny wasn't, we do know that . . . but Lily Sanchez . . . there was no way to find out. . . . there had been too much time, too much decomp."

"Morgan, why do you ask?" Gideon looked curious.

"I was thinking . . . . does the unsub have to be male? What _is_ the motivation for taking these women and then killing them? If we assume that there was no sexual . . . ."

"To end their suffering." Reid whispered so quietly, only Elle sitting next to him seemed to hear him.

"What?"

"To end their suffering . . . . the unsub sees the actress and the character as one person. In the play the character kills herself . . . . ."

"So these are mercy killings?"

"Yes, at least the unsub sees it that way. He. . . " Reid looked at Morgan. "Or she might have a medical background."

"Not necessarily." Hotchner took focus. "The drug tests on Ms. Novotny revealed rohypnol and versed – two drugs that are readily available illegally through the internet. Using a syringe doesn't take medical training. We can pursue the lead but it would not be a good idea to limit our search to those with medical experience."

"What would cause someone to help a person commit suicide?"

"Psychologically the unsub feels a connection, an empathy, with the victim – maybe he or she failed in an attempted suicide in the past or a close family member committed suicide." Reid shrugged his shoulders. "None of the victims seem like they would . . . . want to die. Everything we've been told, all three were doing well."

Hotchner looked to Gideon. "We have identified a potential victim. The final performance of the play is tomorrow night."

"I called the school today and spoke to the teacher in charge. We have an appointment to meet first thing tomorrow morning. The cast information has already been sent to Garcia."

A silence fell over the table as Gideon finished speaking. Hotchner looked around the table at this team, taking a moment to look each of them in the eyes. He knew the high caliber of work they each did and he realized he didn't always acknowledge it. He reached over and picked up his water glass, raising it towards the middle of the table.

"To bringing this case to a close tomorrow." The rest of the team repeated his action.

Once again the talk around the table turned casual.

**Aaron Hotchner's hotel room**

Hotchner's first thought was that the ringing phone would wake Haley up. By the time he grabbed his phone he remembered Haley wasn't with him, she was home. As he answered the phone he looked at the clock and was not happy to see that it was almost one in the morning.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch, there's been another . . . another actress is missing."

"When?"

"A two hours ago. The theatre company was using the University Theatre on the U.T.C. campus."

"Morgan, I want the team at that theatre now. And call Garcia . . . and Ann-Elise, I want them in the office now! A mistake has been made by someone and I need to know how right now!"


	9. The Paper Chase

**Offices of the B.A.U.**

**Quantico, VA**

Penelope Garcia wasn't sure who looked more exhausted and shocked by being in the office at two o'clock in the morning but one look at Ann-Elise Miller's eyes told her who was more upset; those red and glassy eyes could only be caused by one thing.

"Have you been crying?" Ann-Elise nodded yes, pulled up an office chair and collapsed into it.

"Where did we go wrong? I can't imagine we missed anything. . . ."

"Wait, who said _we_ made a mistake?"

"Morgan, when he called. . . ."

"Alright, I'll talk to Derek Morgan about his choice of words when talking to a civilian at such an ungodly hour and you remember that no one really knows where . . . anyone went wrong on this. It may not be anyone's fault." The main monitor suddenly showed the image of Reid and Hotchner. Agent Hotchner did not look happy. "Here we go."

"Alright, what do you have for us?" Garcia sheepishly looked at Ann-Elise and then back to the screen.

"We just got here boss." Hastily Garcia handed a stack of papers to Ann-Elise, who immediately began reading. "I can tell you that there were no plays that fit the pattern last night. We checked every theatre company in a sixty mile radius of the city."

Ann-Elise stopped reading and looked up.

"**Talley's Folly**? That was the play?"

"Are you familiar with it?" Hotchner looked a little less unhappy.

"I was in it, at school. Agent Hotchner, not only does Sally not commit suicide, she lives happily ever after. The character doesn't match the previous cases."

"The character may not but the rest of the situation matches. The actress, Sarah Grace, was taken after the final performance. According to witnesses, she said she had left something in her car, a minute later she was heard screaming for help. Before anyone could get close enough to help, her car pulled out of the parking lot. It was too dark for anyone to see inside the car." Ann-Elise looked over a couple of more pages.

"It looks like this is one of the "sharing companies." I'll see if any names from this production match our list."

"It's a start. Contact us if you find anything." The girls could see Reid reach towards the computer keyboard and the screen went black. For a few seconds neither moved.

"That could have been much worse. Would you like some coffee?" Ann-Elise put the papers down and rubbed her eyes as she answered.

"That would be great, thank you." When she looked up, Garcia was already walking towards to the door. "Are you wearing pajamas?" Garcia smiled.

"So what, you're wearing the same outfit from yesterday."

Ten minutes later, the work really began. Lists were double and triple checked. Resumes read and reread. After two hours both girls were suffering from blurry eyes and aching heads.

Ann-Elise let a stack of papers slide off her lap and fall upon the ground. Giving into a childish impulse, she spun the chair around several times, laughing as the papers flew off her lap and floated to the ground.

"Hey, hey, hey – I have to work here. You are just as bad as Gideon, except you are making a mess with papers instead of food."

"Sorry." She stopped the chair and surveyed the mess. Sighing, Ann-Elise got out of the chair and started picking up paperwork: a mixture of programs, resumes and headshots. She stopped as one picture caught her attention. "S.A.G."

"Sag?"

"It stands for the Screen Actors Guild. Whereare the programs for the first three plays?" Garcia started looking in the file folders near her. Ann-Elise frantically crawled along the floor picking up as many papers as possible.

"Here they are!" Garcia held up three programs. "What are we looking for?"

"Check the actor's bios. How many people thank "S.A.G."? How many of them are members – they have to list if they are members, union rules."

"What if they aren't members?" Garcia continued to run her finger down the page. "Looks like no one in this show is a member."

"They aren't thanking the guild. "S.A.G." must mean something else – a place or a person. We need to go through every one of these programs and resumes. Looking for people who thank "S.A.G." or anyone with those initials." Garcia looked around her office space. Hundreds of pieces of paper were everywhere.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Do you want Agent Hotchner looking at us like that again? I don't!" Realizing that Ann-Elise was right, Garcia redoubled her efforts.


	10. And the unsub is

**Offices of the B.A.U.**

**Quantico, VA**

Ann-Elise Miller sat on the floor, her back against the door, staring at the faxed copies of programs, resumes and headshots, which completely covered the floor. Penelope Garcia sat in her chair, looking down at the mess, shaking her head. Although it was only ten o'clock in the morning, it had already been a long and frustrating day for both of them.

"It's here, Penelope. I know it – we are staring at the answer." Ann-Elise sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Do you know what we need? We need a genius to put the pieces together." Garcia reached over for the phone, a smile on her face.

"I can get us a genius. You should have asked sooner." Before she could dial a single number, the phone rang. Garcia looked at Ann-Elise, an amused expression on her face. She put the call on speaker phone. "You've reached the gate-keeper to the world of knowledge. Who wishes to enter?"

"Garcia, we need your help. . . ."

"Don't you always sweetness! To tell the truth, Reid, we are in need of your help also."

"I go first."

"Reid, are you being so aggressive just because your girlfriend is in the room?" In typical Reid-fashion, he ignored the question and stayed on topic. Garcia noticed even Ann-Elise blushed, looking down at the floor.

"We're having problems getting information about the latest victim. Sarah Grace is a stage name. The theatre's information about her has lead us nowhere. Can you help us dig deeper?" Garcia turned her chair around to face one of many keyboards and started typing.

"Sarah Grace . . . . . let's see what we can find . . . ."

Ann-Elise reached over and picked up the headshot of the latest victim, staring at the name at the bottom of the picture.

"Sarah Grace . . . . . Sarah . . Gr . ." Ann-Elise jumped up, almost falling over in the process. "S. G.-- Garcia, does she have a middle name?"

"Don't know. Sarah Grace isn't her legal name. Here we go – her legal name is Sarah Parr, she was adopted as a child. . . ."

"Did you say 'Parr'?"

"That's what I said, why?"

"What is her current address?" Garcia looked back at the screen.

"Reid, the address is on Stone Mountain." The implication of the information set in and Garcia wanted to jump up and hug Ann-Elise. "You were right; we were staring right at it." Ann-Elise slowly sat back down on the floor; eyes wide open and face very pale. "Are you alright?"

"What's wrong?"

"I'm fine." She took a deep breath. "Just had a bit of a head rush." Ann-Elise looked at Garcia and smiled. "I'm fine." She picked up Sarah Grace's resume, quickly scanning the information. "Why didn't we make the connection sooner? Look at this, she lists being an acting coach as a special skill."

"Good work, both of you! Garcia, send us all you have on this woman. I'll tell Hotch." Garcia ended the call. Both girls sat in silence for a minute. Ann-Elise broke the silence with a loud sigh.

"So, now what?"

"I send them what they need and we sit back and wait."

"Wait?" She sighed. "I need a nap."

**School of Performing Arts auditorium**

**Chattanooga, TN**

When his cell phone rang, Aaron Hotchner excused himself from the meeting with teacher Samantha Watkins. As soon as Reid had updated him, Hotchner called Morgan.

"Morgan, call Reid -- he has the address for the last victim. Get to her place and see what you can find. Looks like she might be the unsub."

"She staged her own kidnapping?"

"That's what we need to find out." He ended the call and motioned for Elle to join him.

"Elle, I need you to contact the directors from the first three plays. See if anyone came in to help them. If so, see if it was this Sarah Grace."

"The actress that was taken last night?"

"Yes, get back to me as soon as you know anything." Elle nodded.

Hotchner walked back towards Gideon and Mrs. Watkins.

"Mrs. Watkins, did you have anyone help you direct this show?" Mrs. Watkins looked at him with a hint of guilt in her eyes.

"I did. It's not against the rules and I didn't pay her. She only asked that I didn't list her in the program, she said she didn't want to take any credit from the kidss."

"What is her name?"

"Sarah Parr. We met through a mutual friend from the local community theatre."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"Last weekend, we had a Saturday rehearsal in the afternoon. She wished the kids good luck and said she would be at the show tonight." Gideon and Hotchner exchanged looks. Gideon leaned in closer to the teacher.

"Mrs. Watkins, I don't want to alarm you or your students but we will need tighten security at the show tonight."


	11. Exits and Entrances

**School of Performing Arts**

**Chattanooga, TN**

Agent Aaron Hotchner had often been criticized for always wearing a suit. On this particular occasion, even he had to admit he was over-dressed. High school students, friends and parents, dressed casually in jeans and t-shirts, were standing around the lobby of the auditorium, waiting for the doors to open. The rest of the team wondered around the lobby, backstage and parking lot of the theatre, less noticeably in less formal clothing. If Sarah Grace attempted to attend the show, her entrance would be seen by the F.B.I. Hotchner looked across the lobby at Jason Gideon, who shook his head -- no sign of her yet.

Derek Morgan walked to the fire door entrance for the umpteenth time, looking into the actor's parking lot. Confidence no new cars had arrived, he turned to walk through the backstage area again.

**Residence of Ann-Elise Miller**

Ann-Elise Miller felt like she was walking on a cloud when she arrived home. Although she was dubious about her response if Reid ever asked for her help again, she realized that she had made a difference.

She dropped her purse onto the table by the door and looked around for signs that Karen had been up and about. What she found was an extremely clean dining room – the table was cleared and dusted and the carpet had been vacuumed. As she went from room to room she found the same thing. Ann-Elise quietly laughed.

"This is a good sign." Convinced that Karen was truly getting better, she entered the kitchen and started to gather the ingredients to make rosemary bread.

**School of Performing Arts**

**Chattanooga, TN**

Elle Greenaway watched from the corner of the auditorium as people started walking in and finding their seats. Picture in hand, she scrutinized every face.

Morgan met up with Reid just outside of the dressing rooms.

"Anything yet?"

"No, I checked the outside door again. I wish this lady would just hurry up and show her face!" Reid, looking behind Morgan, made a discreet motion for Morgan to look back down the hall.

"Morgan, I think you just got your wish." Both agents started to walk towards Sarah Parr.

**Residence of Ann-Elise Miller**

The top of the counter looked like it had been snowing. In the middle of a cloud of flour Ann-Elise was stirring a very messy concoction of flour, water and herbs in a large bowl. She spooned the white blob out onto the counter top but stopped as she heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Karen? How are you feeling?"

"Good, it's been a good day." Karen smiled widely as she walked past Ann-Elise to get to the refrigerator. She opened the door and picked up a bottle of water. For the first time in weeks Karen was dressed in something other than her pajamas. In fact, she looked very nice.

"That is great. It's about time you had a good day. Hey, thanks for cleaning the house. You didn't have to do that."

"It was something I needed to do. No problem."

"Well, thank you." Ann-Elise looked around at the now messy kitchen and felt a little guilty. "Want to help make some bread?" Ann-Elise used her hands to gather the dough and started to knead it, adding flour to prevent the dough from sticking to the counter top. Karen stared at her, drinking the water. She shook her head.

"It's therapeutic, I swear. You should try it." Again Karen just shook her head. "Well, when I'm done with this I have to let it rise for an hour. Why don't you punch it down after that?"

"I won't be around."

"Going out?" Karen put her water bottle down and walked out of the kitchen. Ann-Elise shrugged and kept kneading the dough. "If you change your mind, let me know."

Coming from the doorway Ann-Elise heard a metallic click and immediately froze. She knew that sound. Slowly she turned around. Karen stood five feet away, holding Ann-Elise's gun, pointing straight at her. "Karen, what are doing? Put the gun down." She spoke slowly, her voice low and calm. "Karen, whatever it is, we can deal with it, I . . ." She got no further. Karen pulled the trigger. The impact pushed Ann-Elise back. As she fell her head made contact with the corner of the counter top. She hit the floor and didn't move.

Karen took a moment to look at Ann-Elise and then turned the gun towards herself.

A neighbor, walking her dog, heard two pops from inside the house. She immediately ran to her house and called the police.

**School of Performing Arts**

**Chattanooga, TN**

Aaron Hotchner stood in the scene shop of the school's auditorium, proudly surveying the action around him. The team had been successful – they had caught the unsub before anyone else had been hurt. From his vantage point he could see into the stage where Gideon and Elle were standing, talking to the parents and students involved in the now-cancelled performance. To his right he saw Morgan and Reid escorting Sarah Parr, or Sarah-Ann Grace, towards the waiting police car. When his cell phone began ringing, he pulled the phone from his pocket and answered it without even looking at the it.

"Hotchner." He listened, but no one answered at first. "This is Agent Hotchner." He heard a quiet, shaky voice.

"Is Reid near you?"

"Garcia? Garcia, what is wrong?" Almost subconsciously, Hotchner walked further into the scene shop, away from Reid's position outside.

"I don't want . . . he doesn't need to know. . . ."

"Know what, Garcia?"

"There's a program, I use, to monitor 911 calls. If any names or addresses, connected to our cases, come up. There were shots fired. . . . at Ann-Elise's house." Hotchner froze, his mind racing.

"Garcia, is she alright? Is she hurt?"

"I don't know . . . . one woman was pronounced at the scene, the other is on the way to the hospital."

"Alright, Penelope, see what else you can find out. I'll try to keep Reid busy until we find out more information. Call me immediately when you find out how she is." Hotchner ended the call and looked outside at his youngest agent. Suddenly he didn't feel so successful.


	12. Hospital Reunion and Epiloge

**County Hospital**

For the second time in their relationship, Spencer Reid found himself walking into a hospital, unsure of what condition he would find Ann-Elise in when he saw her. He was happy to have Hotchner with him – a calming agent in a chaotic situation. Reid felt like he was in a waking-nightmare. Nothing had seemed real since Hotchner told him, and the rest of the team, what had happened while in the plane back to Quantico.

The two men exited the elevator and began walking towards the nurse's station. Before Hotchner could speak to a nurse, Reid pointed out Captain Patrick Miller, sitting in a chair just down the hall.

"Captain Miller." The exhausted man looked up.

"Agent Hotchner, Spencer, thank you for coming."

"How is she?" Subconsciously Captain Miller backed up towards the hospital room door.

"She's . . . you can't see her right now." He looked down, shaking his head. Reid and Hotchner exchanged looks, both fearing the worst. "She didn't remember what happened, when she woke up after surgery. She asked for Karen, and you, Spencer. I didn't want to tell her." He sighed and looked up at the two F.B.I. agents. "This morning a local cop came in to interview her. He told her, before I could stop him. He told her what Karen had done." Hotchner took a step towards the distraught father.

"How did she react?" Captain Miller shook his head and took a shaky breath.

"Badly. I've never seen her like that before. She lashed out at the officer, at me." Reid noticed, for the first time, a bruise on the man's left cheekbone. "She ripped out the I.V., tried to get out of the bed, pulling the stitches in her shoulder. They've sedated her. The nurse is still taking care of her." Hotchner took Patrick's arm and gently pulled him a few steps away from the door.

"Patrick, you've been here all night. Have you eaten anything today?" Patrick shook his head. "Let the nurse take care of her right now. Come with me; let's get you something to eat." The distraught father didn't argue and the two men started to walk towards the elevator. Hotchner stopped and looked back when he realized his young agent wasn't following. "Reid?"

"I'll wait here." Hotchner nodded.

Reid waited until the elevator doors closed. He carefully pushed open the door and peeked into the room. He saw the nurse putting a bandage where the original I.V. had been. She looked up and smiled.

"It's alright, I'm done." She started to walk towards the door, stopping in front of Reid. "Just so you know, I doubt she'll even know you're here. But that wouldn't stop me from talking to her"

The nurse left the room and Reid walked closer to the bed. He looked down, relieved. She didn't look too bad – compared to how she looked last time – only one I.V., a bandage on her left temple and her left arm in a blue hospital-issued sling. Her eyes were half-opened, staring unfocused towards the corner of the room.

"Ann." He leaned in closer, speaking in a whisper. "Ann-Elise." She didn't move. "Ann, you're not alone." Ann-Elise blinked her eyes twice and then looked towards Reid. He gave her a smile. She seemed to look through him for a few seconds then her eyes focused on his face. "Hi." She seemed to recognize him just before she closed her eyes. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Reid settled himself into a chair next to the bed. Looking around the room, he spotted a file folder on a chair – it was a police report. Reid walked over to the folder, opened it and started reading.

Reid was still reading the folder when Hotchner returned. He lightly rapped on the door before entering.

"Reid, how is she?"

"Fine, I guess. She's been sleeping. . . Hotch, she told me that Karen wasn't doing well – mentally. I should have done more. . . . ."

"Reid . . ."

"If you are going to say not to blame myself, don't. I know. It still doesn't make it any easier to deal with it all."

"Look, I convinced Patrick to go home and get some rest. I told him one of us would stay here. . . ."

"I'll stay, no problem. You should go home to your family."

**Epilogue**

**Greyshell Middle School**

Agent Hotchner stood in the doorway of Ann-Elise Miller's classroom, waiting for the final few students to exit. Over the rumble of students changing classes behind him, he could just hear the parting words of Ms. Miller to the two last students in her room.

"Guys, you know I appreciate your sense of humor – but not while I'm trying to teach." Her serious expression lasted only a few seconds before she nodded her head towards the door and smiled. "Get going. I don't want you to be late and I am not writing either of you a pass." The students mumbled "sorry and thanks" and left. Ann-Elise watched them walk to the door where she saw a familiar figure.

"You handled that well."

"Agent Hotchner, how are you?" She met him near the door, shaking his hand. "So, what brings you back to middle school?"

"Actually, I came to see how you are doing.You're still wearing the sling."

"I know. I don't wear it at home. It is mostly to remind me not to do too much and it keeps the kids from running into me in the halls. I'm almost done with the physical therapy. Everything is healing just fine." She motioned for him to take a seat at the nearest table.

"I don't want to take up to much of your time."

"I'm only back teaching part time. The long-term sub comes in for my afternoon classes. It was the best option. Please, sit down"

"Thank you. What was the other option?"

"I come back in the fall."

"I didn't get the opportunity to really say thank you for helping us. You made a very big difference in the case and I should have talked to you sooner. . ."

"You are welcome and there is no need for you to apologize, please."

"Reid said that you are staying at your father's home right now."

"I'm not ready to go back to the house yet . . . I think I just need some time. The commute from my dad's place is horrible but it has been nice to spend so much time with him." Ann-Elise looked at her watch. "Speaking of, I'm meeting my dad for a late lunch today." She stood up and gathered together a few things, putting them in her bag.

"Since you are on your way out, may I walk you to your car? We can finish talking on the way."

"That would be very gentlemen-like of you, Agent Hotchner. I accept the escort." They both smiled. Ann-Elise retrieved her purse from her office and they started to walk towards the door. She stopped at the door, looking back at her room before turning off the lights. "I am glad that I was able to help the F.B.I. but I think I am where I should be – right here in the classroom."

She turned off the lights and they both walked down the hall.

**Well, the story is done. Thank you to everyone who has read the story and a special thank you to those who have left reviews. I truly appreciate the feedback!**


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